


The Aftermath

by ChronicCatalina



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Henderson!Reader, Sweet Steve, a bit of scared dustin, morning laughs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 07:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicCatalina/pseuds/ChronicCatalina
Summary: After the Battle of Starcourt, Steve and the Henderson siblings go back to the Henderson house for a sleepover. You and Steve finally catch up and relax in bed (you were with the Kids and Steve in the Russian base). Dustin eventually crashes in your room for mutual comfort.





	The Aftermath

Officer Callahan rubbed his ear periodically, a remnant of Joyce Byers’ painful grip as she told him to _take those kids home_.

_Those kids_ were now piled in his squad car — Steve in the passenger seat and you and Dustin in the back. The clamor of ambulance sirens and flashing lights in the Starcourt parking lot gave way to the occasional street lamp and sixties crooners on the radio. Every time a pothole made the car lurch reminded you of that godforsaken Russian elevator plummeting deep below the mall, but Steve’s gaze in the side mirror brought you back to ground level.

Dustin was nestled under your arm but determined to stay awake to give Callahan street-by-street directions.

“It’s on the right. Yeah, _right here_, don’t blow past it.”

“I got it, champ.”

The car hadn’t rolled to a full stop before the three of you were up and out, desperate for a sense of normalcy from the Henderson home. Steve’s hand found yours like clockwork and Dustin let you ruffle his hair as he fell in step toward the back porch light, that single bulb left on in case either of you ever came home late. Which was all the time.

Callahan cleared his throat loudly. “Harrington, you need a ride home?”

He was met with three judgemental stares. Steve held up his hand clasped with yours for emphasis, because apparently Callahan was the only person in Hawkins who hadn’t seen Steve constantly at your side.

“Alright, well don’t forget to tell Mrs. Henderson that you’re home safe. And she can call the police station in the morning if she has any questions.”

“We got it, _champ_,” Dustin quipped.

Steve muttered in disbelief, “Pretty sure it was _us_ who fought the Russians. We don’t need babying.” His bruising eye twitched at the memory.

You and Dustin shared a look as the squad car pulled away.

“We’re not telling Mom anything till morning.”

“Obviously.”

Stillness and quiet enveloped you as soon as the door was shut. Chaotic Russians and flayed monsters were worlds away from carpeted floors and La-Z-Boys and it was tempting to lay down then and there.

Dustin snapped out of the trance first and headed for the bathroom.“Alright, I gotta get this grossness off of me.”

Steve didn’t even have to speak before you leaned into his waiting arms. You shifted after a moment, wrapping your arms tighter around him and breathing deeply into the hug. The two of you hadn’t had a second alone since the whole ordeal began, though Steve tried to make up for it by asking if you were okay dozens of times.

And he was still in that habit, apparently.

“You alright?

“Better now.”

Steve pulled back with a tired grin that grew wider when he saw a smear of blood on your cheek. “Whoops, let’s get that off of you.”

He brushed it away and you almost relaxed into the touch until you saw the blood again.

“_Shit_, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

“It doesn’t even hurt that bad anymore —“

“Shut up, Harrington.”

“Uh, okay, that hurt more than this does, _Henderson_.”

You swiveled back around, knowing you’d find that smirk on his face. Steve being playful was as constant as the rising sun and after a few days of having _other things_ on your minds, you needed this. Needed to keep the mood normal and light.

You took him by the arm, giving a gentle squeeze that he couldn’t resist. “_Steve_, will you let me clean your face up?”

“I guess it’s not a bad idea.”

It took awhile because Steve’s wincing had you pausing with pity, but the white kitchen rag was soon dyed pink. You dampened a fresh one and held it out to him.

“I’ll let you take it from here, sailor. I don’t wanna press too hard.”

He fiddled with the knot on his uniform, a reminder that he was still wearing that _ridiculous_ outfit, but the grin never left his face. Hopping down off the counter, he took the rag and used his other hand to tug you close.

“Hey, thanks.” The kiss was short and sweet but your nose still bumped a cut on his cheek. “_Ow_…”

“Yeah, there might not be much of that for awhile.”

“Ha, wrong. I’m not gonna let some stupid Russians stop me from kissing my girlfriend.”

Your head tilted endearingly as he stole another, more gentle kiss. A simple nod down the hallway led both of you to tiptoe toward your room and Steve closed the door with cartoonish caution. Your bed was barely made but you didn’t bother to move the covers before collapsing on it upside down, crossing your shoes over your pillows.

Steve followed suit, thumb automatically brushing over yours when he intertwined your fingers. A deep breath rocked his chest.

“I haven’t laid down in awhile without being tied to a chair.”

“They definitely weren’t the most accommodating hosts.”

A beat of silence. Another few breaths. You squeezed Steve’s hand with your eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“I was worried the whole time, you know. Didn’t show it around Dustin and Erica but then that stupid general guy took _you_ away and…” You stopped before you could get too choked up. Shifting to your side, you gingerly touched a gash on Steve’s forehead. “God, they really did a number on you.”

He gave a wry smile. “Not the first bad guys to use a mouthy idiot as a punching bag.”

Your fingers idly brushed through his hair. “I just wish they wouldn’t use _my_ mouthy idiot.”

“Better me than you or Robin.”

“Believe me, that isn’t how we felt.”

You winced at the memory of hearing his pained groans echoing down that metallic hall and leaned away again. Too far for Steve’s comfort.

“So I was wondering, is it sexist that they didn’t hit girls?”

Laughter peeled from both of you, just like he wanted. He knew you’d been scared just as bad as he was, but seeing you still upset made his chest ache. So he rolled toward you and basked in the smile that his silly question brought to your lips.

“Robin and I were debating that, actually,” you replied. “We haven’t decided yet.”

Quieting down after a few more giggles escaped, you kissed an unbruised spot on his cheek and snuggled down against his shoulder. As if you were just two young lovebirds hanging out on a Friday night. As if you hadn’t just defeated an interdimensional evil.

“Hey, I’m glad we’re home.”

“Me, too.”

Just when exhaustion threatened to drag both of you to sleep, there was a quiet knocking on your door that felt as loud as a train whistle. Steve froze and a dozen explanations raced through your mind, none of them plausible enough for your mother at the moment.

But it was Dustin’s voice that came from the hallway. “Are you guys naked?”

“Dude, seriously?” you groaned.

“Hey, I gotta make sure my innocent little eyes don’t see anything disgusting.”

“We’re _fully_ clothed, Dustin,” Steve whisper-yelled. “Jesus.”

Dustin opened the door a sliver to peek in. Steve gestured to his uniform and gave your sleeve a tug for good measure before a satisfied Dustin finally stepped into the room. The Star Wars pajama shirt swallowing his frame made you smile. Some things never change. _Thank god_.

“What’s up?” you chirped.

“I just…uh, I wanted to make sure _you guys_ were okay. With all the shit that happened, you know.” He got quieter and looked at the floor. “I’m sure it was scary.”

Your heart nearly cracked in two and Steve nodded when you glanced at him. Pushing a middle schooler to admit he was scared never worked so you had to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

“C’mere, Dusty.”

Steve chimed in and patted the bed between you. “Yeah, your sister here could use some comforting.”

Dustin sniffled and gratefully clambered over you to that middle spot. His wet curls were plastered on your arm but you didn’t care, not when you had your two favorite boys safe and sound. You smiled softly at Steve, sending a silent _thank you_ for letting Dustin crash.

He beamed right back and you fell asleep to that sweet view.

…

By the next morning, shoes and bloodstained rags were carelessly tossed on the floor and your neck was cramping in a number of spots. As you lifted your head to stretch it out, you had to stifle a laugh at the heartwarming sight next to you.

Steve was splayed on his back and Dustin was curled into Steve’s chest, both occasionally snoring.

Tired muscles implored you to stand and stretch, which also gave you a better vantage point on the two sleeping forms. A particularly loud snore made Dustin stir and as soon as he got his bearings, he cried out and nearly shoved Steve off the bed.

“Gross! Get off me.”

Poor Steve jolted awake, eyes wide with terror. “Dude, what?!”

“You two sleeping beauties were cuddled up together,” you offered. “I wish I’d had a camera to capture it.”

Steve socked Dustin in the shoulder and followed with an accusatory finger. “Hey man, you’re the one who crawled in right there.”

“Yeah, because _you_ gestured to that spot!”

“Boys, don’t worry, I’m not gonna ruin anyone’s reputation by tattling.”

“I was…_ugh_, right there with Steve frickin’ Harrington.” Dustin’s head fell into his hands, then snapped up to glare daggers at the culprit. “Pick the right Henderson to get cozy with next time!”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

Steve followed through with his declaration by marching over to you for a hug and dramatic kiss and you played along, laughing into it when Dustin gagged.

Just when more threats were gonna go flying, Claudia Henderson’s voice rang out down the hallway.

“Dusty? Where are you, honey?”

“Oh shit.”


End file.
